


Grand Jeté

by therunawaypen



Series: Sherlock Tumblr Prompt Fills [55]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Dancer Sherlock, M/M, dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:47:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1492237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therunawaypen/pseuds/therunawaypen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ballet is always something John admired, though it was never something he had been allowed to do. But watching his niece at her ballet lesson brings a new opportunity when John meets the dance school's owner, one Sherlock Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grand Jeté

**Author's Note:**

> Would you do a Balletlock AU? John always wanted to be a dancer, but he was always turned down because of his physique, so his dad forced him into the army. Invalided home, he ends up taking Harry’s daughter to Ballet classes, where he meets Sherlock, a choreographer who had to give up his career because his height gave him back problems. Despite his prickly demeanour, Sherlock cures his psychosomatic limp and they end up dancing together… ? not necessarily johnlock, but you choose. —anon

John wished he could say that he was wildly uncomfortable standing in the waiting area of the dance studio, surrounded by dance mothers, or that he was mad at Harry for making him take his niece to her dance class. But he couldn’t.

He was too busy watching the students, their feet and their bodies as they moved to the music playing in the background. Even though it was a beginners’ ballet class, John still loved the basic movements that went into the dance. As a doctor, John could appreciate just how much work each muscle contributed, how much strength and control went into each movement. As a soldier, he could appreciate the peace and grace in the dance.

Not that he had ever been allowed to show his interest in dance. Not masculine enough, he’d been told, no good for a strong young man like him.

But at least he could watch. Emily looked like she was enjoying herself, and the young woman teaching the class seemed nice.

Then the door to the studio’s office opened and, as a man exited the office, the mother’s in the waiting area groaned. The groans were followed by a stream of complaints.

“Not again…”

“I swear, if that bastard so much as _looks_ at my Nicole…”

“Why can’t he just stay in his office?”

Raising a curious eyebrow, John looked at one of the mothers next to him. The mother sighed, taking pity on John’s ignorance to the situation, “That’s Mr. Holmes, the choreographer and owner of the studio. He’s brilliant in dance, but he’s a complete bastard.”

Now John might not have known these ladies long (about half an hour, judging by the length of the class), but he could imagine they didn’t hand out the title “bastard” very often. So to say his curiosity was piqued would have been an understatement. And Mr. Holmes did seem to fit the image of one who wasn’t well liked; tall and imposing in his black leggings and leotard, not to mention the long black cane the choreographer was carrying. Though unlike the cane in John’s hand, the sole purpose of Holmes’s cane, it seemed, was to knock against the students who were not in the proper position during their dance.

When Holmes was in front of Emily, John worried what the strict instructor might do to his niece. But luckily, all Holmes did was tilt Emily’s chin up, “Head up, you’re a proud dancer, not slinking away from a one night stand.” He muttered before moving on to the next student.

John blinked and tried his best not to chuckle at the man’s coarse humor. He refused to laugh in front of the other dance parents, especially considering the fact that they seemed to take every correction from Holmes as a personal insult.

Honestly, John thought some of the mothers there might be trying to live through their children.

As the class ended, several of the children ran to their mothers, eager to get away from Holmes’s scathing glare. Even the young woman teaching the class seemed uneasy. John stood awkwardly as he waited for Emily to finish change, only to find that Holmes was watching him intently. The experience was unnerving enough, but then Holmes walked directly over to him, never taking his eyes off of him.

It was only when Holmes stood directly in front of him that John realized just how stunning those eyes were. And it was only when Holmes knocked his cane against John’s own that he realized he hadn’t been leaning on his cane for support.

Holmes raised an amused eyebrow, “A psychosomatic limp…well we’ll just have to fix that, won’t we?” He smirked, “You certainly can’t dance with a cane.”

John blinked, stunned, “I beg your pardon? Who said anything about dancing?”

“I did.” Holmes replied, producing a business card seemingly out of nowhere and slipping it into John’s front pocket, “I know a dancer when I see one, Dr. Watson.”

“How did you know I’m a—”

“Children do tend to talk during class.” Holmes interrupted, sounding bored, “Tomorrow at eight, then? I look forward to it.” And with that, the choreographer returned once more to his office.

And as John stood in stunned silence, even after Emily had returned from changing, he belatedly wondered if he had just found a dance teacher or if he had been flirted with.


End file.
